Closet Closeness Is Juvenile, Right?
by ThePointGirl
Summary: On a job, Cobb and Eames have to hide from projections. Because a hiding in a storage closet was the sensible option, wasn't it? - Backstory of Cobb/Eames at University.


**Title: **Closet Closeness Is Juvenile, Right?

**Disclaimer: **Don't own Inception

**Notes: **Eh, I don't know what this is, but please review if you like :)

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The whole thing was rather absurd really; Eames was not in a position to deny it. In his lifetime he had run from police and drug addicts, fought with enough East End gangsters to know when to shut his mouth, and escaped many more annoyed clients and marks. Escape meaning flee to a country which didn't yet know his face, nor name, escape – in Daniel Eames' mind – did not mean hide in a closet.

Yes, at this very moment in time, Daniel Eames was residing in tiny space where his back was unfortunately pressed up against his colleague and university friend, Dominic Cobb.

'This is why we don't create from memory' Eames breathed, mainly for his own sanity. He felt the man shift self-consciously behind him.

'Yes well, you thought it would be a good idea to use university halls' Cobb hissed.

'You agreed! You're the architect' Eames retaliated, not liking the idea that he was being blamed for this juvenile expedition.

'Sorry, but I didn't anticipate being in a closet with you would be part of this extraction. I obviously did not read the contract right' Cobb said sarcastically. Eames smirked, glad to have the Cobb he knew from university back: a smart mouth who wasn't afraid to stand up for himself.

'Oh piss off. Do us a favour and move your arse backward, I can't breathe'

'Believe me, if I could I would Eames' Cobb retorted, and Eames realised he could feel the other man's every move. Cobb ran a hand restlessly through his blond hair

'What are you thinking about?' Eames asked and a snort of laughter emitted from behind him.

'I'm thinking, if we get caught, I'll actually thank the possibility of Browning 47s being pointed at us' and Eames grinned at the thought.

'I don't embarrass easily, but that was an experience where one round is most certainly enough'

The memory he and Cobb were sharing was a time at university.

The pair had fallen into a closet, which had consequently shut and locked with no way of getting out again. It happened to be in South House, the Art and Design block, and Eames had met Cobb after a seminar. Cobb apparently needed some supplies, so he signed the supplies book and they went into the Design Room. It was one of those spacious, airy art rooms. Cobb had disappeared into the closet at the back and Eames wandered about, listening to Cobb muttering and looking at artwork. Eames strolled over to the closet and accidentally knocked the door, making it swing shut. Unfortunately the door had a rusty lock which somehow, when connected to the other part; no matter even if there is no padlock, refused to give way. Magnificent for art thieves; not so good for teenagers. Eames did not know how long they were in there, but they spent most of it telling stupid jokes, and reminiscing about the times either had played the stupid pre-pubescent game 'Seven Minutes In Heaven'. Eames had teased his friend no end and Cobb – who he was sure was not claustrophobic – shuffled about a lot. The given light in the closet was slim to none so it was difficult to read each other's faces. Actually, they learnt a lot about how to analyse someone's tone of voice when you have no means of seeing their expression. Something that would come in handy in later years. When they were let out, the pair of them stumbled out flushed and awkward in front of Cobb's lecturer. Cobb couldn't look the man in the eye for the next few weeks each time he passed him in the cafeteria. Eames had obviously played it up, winking at his friend and causing scarlet to blossom on his cheeks. Cobb's lecturer – Jones? – was almost as embarrassed as they were, obviously believing Cobb to be the last student he would find in a closet, and especially with a male friend. Cobb had explained, Eames had helped, but the man still didn't look entirely convinced and was probably certain they were in there on purpose for reasons that were not to be shared. Eames never found the idea of _doing that _very appealing. He had been in the situation before that – at school – he just didn't have a classroom or schoolboy kink and he doubt he will ever form one.

'I do wonder what your lecturer thought when he found us?' Eames smirked and Cobb groaned, his head dropping forward to rest on Eames' shoulder. Eames shifted his weight onto his other foot.

'I don't want to contemplate that, to be honest. He knew we were close friends but – '

'I'm sure he forgot about it. Could be worse, I suppose, we could actually have been…'

'True that'

'Ow, bugger' Eames swore as he leant forward and smacked his forehead cleanly on the hard surface of the door. 'I believe this was a lot simpler when we were smaller in size. Woes of not being a teenager anymore'. It was perfectly true, that was one of the issues in growing up, your body mass increases no matter what you do about it. Cobb and Eames were prime examples of this phenomenon. So instead of being slanted against one another in slim lines of muscle, it was bulky weight which was hard and awkward.

'This is a story to tell the kids when they're old enough' Eames could hear the grin on his friend's face.

'I'm sure James will get his share as a young lad'

The air in the closet was heating up, slowly and surely. Eames had to blink a few times, and stand stock-still. There was a noise outside the closet and the pair was hushed, listening to any inclination that the doors were about to be thrown open and all of hell was about to crack wide open. Cobb's hands, specifically his fingertips, were tapping on Eames' belt, hooking onto his belt loops. This was his friend's way of presenting the fact that he was anxious, Cobb's breath spiralling against Eames' neck.

'Hey, boss, calm down' he smirked and the response was just as childish. Cobb poked him in the side, growling.

'Shut up. How long do you think we have left?'

'Twenty minutes possibly? God I wished we had our guns'

When they had begun the dream, looking for the mark, they had lost their guns in the ducts. The almighty clanging echoed and had Eames and Cobb staring at each other in trepidation.

Luckily, they were able to complete the extraction without any hiccups and the mark did not seem aware of what was going on. The projections had looked a little suspicious of both men, and that was the reason why they were hiding out.

'I don't think I've ever gotten in this situation with Arthur' Cobb huffed, and Eames identified an amused lilt.

'That stick in the mud? I'm not surprised. Then again, he wouldn't have lost his gun in the ducts'

'Are you suggesting you'd prefer Arthur on this job?' Cobb retorted and Eames grinned, knowing the architect couldn't see him.

'Oh I'd prefer lovely little Ariadne over you, I just need the money'

'Fuck you'

'See? That is what I am getting at. You are so terribly rude to me' he jibed and the man made a low, threatening noise.

'Shut up Eames' came the hissed response, 'How is Ariadne by the way?'

'The little thing is fine, got herself a boyfriend. Poor sod doesn't know what he is getting into obviously' Eames shook his head, joking.

'I'm sure he'll cope. Do we need to do any check ups on him?'

'Already did, he's clean as a whistle. Real American boy – ugh' Eames shuddered and Cobb chuckled.

'Jealous?'

'She is a darling, just not my type'

Eames blinked, feeling a swaying sensation, as if his body had become weightless and when he opened his eyes - he was staring straight at ugly 70s style curtains. He could breathe, and wasn't being confined by the body of his friend nor a door.

They were back in reality, in the hotel room with a décor clearly designed by a crack addict. Eames checked on the mark who was still sound asleep in his chair, and then Cobb who had put the heels of his hands to his eyes.

'That was strange, I don't wish to repeat that. You all right?' and Cobb looked sideways at him, smirking.

'Yeah. Let's go'

They packed up the gear, locked the PASIV and slipped out of the hotel room as if they were never there, swiping away any prints that might have been left. Arthur would be proud Eames thought cynically.

Back in their own hotel room – Cobb's – Eames sat with a double shot of whiskey and Cobb standing at the glass doors to the balcony, looking at the view.

'Next time, don't do a university complex, yeah?' Eames grinned and Cobb rolled his eyes.

Because some things, no matter how amusing, shouldn't be recreated.


End file.
